


I'm Not Scared Of You

by StrayComma



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: 4 boys 4 flavors of trauma, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Childhood Trauma, Family Dynamics, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I know the tags are dark, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Obscurus (Harry Potter), Panic Attacks, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Techno & Wilbur are twins, Techno slytherin, Tommy gryffindor, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur ravenclaw, but I promise it's wrapped in layers of good vibes, eyes emoji, sbi, they're brothers your honor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28835721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrayComma/pseuds/StrayComma
Summary: After suppressing his magic his entire life, Dream’s Obscurus finally snapped and demolished the sanctuary he was forced to live in. Dream, now classified as a national threat by the ministry of magic, gets saved just in time by freelance wizard and father of three, Phil. While Dream has to wrestle with his deep-rooted trust issues and fear of himself, Techno and his brothers Wilbur and Tommy have to get used to suddenly having a fourth brother.But who is he, really? And what does Wilbur’s strange vision mean?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 62
Kudos: 232





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a RPF & especially a fic in English, so please have mercy.  
> If you find stray commas that's definitely because of my brand and not because I don't really understand how commas in English work or anything.
> 
> I'll try to add content warnings in front of specific chapters as necessary!
> 
> Shout-out to @olympvs for very kindly beta-ing this fic! Her work is phenomenal, please consider checking it out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW implied murder, word repetitions, potentially depersonalization

The boy woke up to feeling so very, very cold. A coldness so sharp and ever-present; it felt different from the usual cold. Not the cold he felt whenever he had to sleep in the courtyard. Nor the one he felt when the pastor had him stand in the icy winter wind after being doused in water. When his clothes were frozen solid and made the tiniest crunching noises whenever he just slightly moved. When his warm breath was the only thing stopping his eyes from freezing shut.

No. This felt different. He could still feel his fingertips, after all. And his clothes didn’t feel frozen stiff. In fact, they felt… smooth. Unnaturally so. What was that?

He tried opening his eyes but was met with a piercing headache that made him twitch in pain and curl up even more. Wait… he was curled up? Since when? And where was he?

He tried to remember, but his headache just grew stronger and stronger with every question he couldn’t find an answer to.

He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again, blinking a few times to get his eyes to process the scene before him. There was… the ground. Dusty earth and sharp rubble. Stones of every size and shape all around him. A broken granite slab a few feet ahead of him. Several wooden beams, cracked and splintered. Glass. Pieces of glass, everywhere. A human hand underneath what was left of a shattered pew. A human hand underneath a shattered pew. A human hand under a pew. A human hand shattered. A human. Shattered. A pool of blood on the ground. Blood on the pew. Blood on the rubble. Blood on the hand. Blood on his hands. Blood on his hands. Blood on his clothes. Blood on his clothes and hands. Blood on his shivering hands felt smoother than frozen clothes. Blood on his hands. His bloodied hands gripping his head, tearing into his skin. What did he do? What did he DO?

His sight blurred, a thick black smoke forming where his bloodied hands used to be. Where his hands… used to be. Smoke coming from his chest, pulsating and growing, tumbling and twisting. Smoke over his arms, smoke over his legs, smoke over his eyes. Thick black smoke all around him. His ability to form coherent thoughts dwindling as he lost all feeling in his arms and legs. Crumbling and cracking sounds grew louder and louder, until a deafening silence drowned them out.

His concept of self blurring with all his thoughts, his memories, his feelings, and all the rubble. Broken stones clashing against his deepest fears. Blood sloshing around his unanswered questions. The sharpest and most ever-present pain at every pulse and twist of the thick black smoke that now made up his entire self. Nothing left of him except the pain and this feeling of being so very, very cold.


	2. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream finds himself in an unfamiliar place and tries to escape.

When the boy woke up the next time, the sharp rubble no longer tore into his legs. He still felt cold, but at least there was no more harsh winter wind to make it worse. And his clothes no longer felt… wet. The first tiny successes in this time of terror.

He slowly opened his eyes, prepared to once again have to deal with a painful headache, but was this time only met with blissful darkness. His hands stretched out, slowly going over any surface he could find to try and make out his surroundings while his eyes still adjusted to the low brightness of this room.

He felt… softness, underneath him. It squished when he pressed down and it squeaked when he moved. And there was softness… on him? A blanket? A bed? Was he lying in an actual bed? How’d he get here? Oh god, what if the owner of the bed came back? Surely he doesn’t belong here. Did he sneak in while the weird… smoke… thing… happened? Did he just forget again? Or was this what prison is? Did they catch him? Were they going to execute him? For what he did? What did he do? What did he DO?

He shook his head. First softly, then with force – trying so very hard to get all these thoughts and questions out of his mind. Last time he asked himself too much… He didn’t want the smoke to come back. He just had to take it one step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time. Okay.

The boy carefully sat up and looked around. There was… the bed. A little nightstand next to it, with just an extinguished candle on top. Behind it, a door. Warm lighting shining in from the small gap at the bottom, lightly illuminating the rest of the room. A massive table and closet on the opposite side of the room. A window behind him. A window behind him. Windows lead outside. He could escape through the window.

He turned around and carefully leaned on the slim windowsill to get a good look outside. There was no moon to be seen and yet the outline of the rest of the cottage was quite visible. Only one of the windows below was illuminated, the rest of the house seemed fast asleep. Good. Considering how he seemed to be on the second floor at least, leaving through the window quickly became his second-best plan.

His first-best plan consisted of leaving through a door before anyone noticed and potentially collecting information for his nagging questions on the way. Yeah. Surely they didn’t expect him to wake up in the middle of the night.

He stood up with shaky legs and let his hands run through his matted hair, searching. Where was it?

After a bit of ruffling, he finally felt the trusted coldness of metal. He pulled it out and just stared at the uneven hair pin in his hands for a moment, thankful that at least this piece of comfort was left with him. At least he still had his most important tool. It made him remember how they had to nail plates over all keyholes at the sanctuary, just because he got too good at cracking the locks. A small smile formed on his lips as the image of their shocked and angry faces appeared in his mind, just for it to quickly get washed away with the memories of what happened after. And what might be happening now.

He kneeled down and stared into the keyhole. Score - he knew this build type! His trained hands quickly bent his hair pin in the correct shape and inserted it into the keyhole. His right hand holding the pin, his left gently pressing down on the handle so he’d feel his progress. But suddenly, the door started acting both very uncooperative and cooperative at once as it simply started shaking as soon as the boy pressed down all the way. Confused, he carefully pulled on the door and it opened. The door was open. The door was open. What.

He sat back down on his feet and stared into the middle distance for a moment, bewildered. Why was the door open? How could they forget to lock his door? Was he captured by morons? Maybe this whole escaping thing would be easier than anticipated, he thought to himself as he sneaked out the door, down a spiral staircase and into a hallway.

The hallway was still quite dark, though warm light shone from the end of it, seemingly from a stairway that led further down. The smell of old books and candle soot hung in the dusty air and slowly overwhelmed his senses. It reminded him of the sanctuary’s abandoned library that he used to spend every unsupervised moment in. Although this place felt warmer, more alive.

His eyes darted around the walls and floor as he moved forward, step by step. There were countless picture frames on the walls – a great variety of shapes and sizes. And although he couldn’t make out their content, he felt watched by them. He felt like, any second now, hands would reach through the frames and grab him. Was that possible? He couldn’t know.

His legs reached the end of the hallway before his mind could reel back from his self-afflicted paranoia. So he just stood there for a moment - his pale, bruised skin illuminated through the rips and tears in his worn-out clothes.

The sound of a page being turned brought him back to reality. There was someone downstairs. The boy took a careful step onto the stairs and leaned forward to try and get a quick look over the handrail. There was a person sitting at a dining table, a big newspaper in hand that blocked their eyes from meeting. If he was just quiet enough, he could probably sneak to the front door and maybe even steal a coat or some shoes on his way out.

He nodded to himself. He had succeeded at more difficult escapes before. This was doable. Instilled with fake confidence, his legs started their trembling descent. One step at a time. One step at a time. Don’t make a sound.

But before he was even halfway down, he heard a voice from below.

“Are you hungry?”

He flinched and took a shaky step backwards, his back pressed against the wall behind him, trying to hold his breath. Were they talking to him? Or was there another person he didn’t notice? His eyes told him that the person behind the newspaper hadn’t moved, but were they lying to him?

“It’s okay. I have some beef stew leftovers on the stove for you.” The voice sounded gentle. Inviting. He knew this tone all too well. They were either talking to someone else or trying to trick him. Never again. He could still leave through the door if he were fast enough. No, if the door were locked then he would be caught by them immediately. Although, they hadn’t even looked-

At that moment, the newspaper rustled and got lowered, revealing a blonde man with a kind smile, looking directly at him. “I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.” The man chuckled warmly. “I didn’t save you from the Ministry just to turn around and hurt you, too. You’re safe here. I promise.”

The boy had heard these words before. Oh, how he heard them. Trusted them, even. _Safe_ , he thought angrily, _there is no such thing as safe_. His body freed itself from its frozen state and started moving, running, back up the stairs, the hallway, the stairs again – all the way back into the room he woke up in. His hands clasped the window handle, ripping it open. The roof below was in jumping distance. Probably. Time to go.

He climbed onto the bed and went into the open window, knee first. But, for some reason, his knee hit something solid. The window was definitely open, there was no glass remaining. And yet, when he reached out to check, his hand, too, collided with something that his eyes refused to register. Was this the cleanest glass known to mankind? No. The stronger he pressed against in, the more the strange material started to glow in bright, yellow-y shades. Frightened, he pulled back.

But before he could even contemplate how to get around this weird… barrier, or what to do next, he heard steps. Approaching steps. Approaching steps. The man was approaching, coming to get him. For disobeying.

His eyes darted around, trying to find a place to hide. Fast. Fast. Fast-

The closet. The closet was massive, he could easily hide there. He hid in the closet. Hiding in the closet. It smelled like rotten wood and old books, in the closet. The door was closed and he couldn’t see anything, in the closet. He was hidden from the man, in the closet.

He heard a door creak open and footsteps enter his room. Something made a clinking sound. And then there was the gentle voice again.

“I’ll just put it here. No need to come down if you don’t want to. I get it. Today must’ve been rough for you.” The man breathed out, thinking. “There’s… a bathroom on the second floor, first room to the right. First room to the left is mine. Feel free to come in anytime. If you want to talk or need anything at all. Take all the time you need.”

After a moment of silence, the footsteps started up again and the boy heard the door close.

He waited for a long time. Until the steps echoed all the way from the first floor. Until even his fears agreed that he was alone in this room. Only then did he leave the closet, carefully, and walked up to his nightstand. The candle on it was now ignited and there was a deep plate with warm stew and a spoon next to it. The sight and delicious smell made him realize that he was, in fact, very hungry. He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to eat. The unnatural kindness of the man made him wary, but his hunger made him careless. Maybe it was a trap, but not taking food while he was starving didn’t seem like a sound choice either.

He could always escape later, he reasoned with himself. 


	3. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno, Wilbur and Tommy leave Hogwarts for winter break.

Techno checked his pocket watch, annoyed. He’d been standing and waiting in the snow-covered courtyard for twenty minutes now. The buzzing of students rushing through the school’s halls behind him, excited to get on the train and back home for winter break, filled his ears and reminded him of how much he’d like to be one of them right now. He would certainly already be sitting in one of the cozy train cabins if it weren’t for his unreliable little brother.

He scoffed, his warm breath forming gentle clouds in the icy winter air. “I am going to dropkick Tommy if we miss our train because of him.”

A soft voice next to him replied, “No, you won’t.”

Techno looked down to his twin brother who was sitting on the ground, delightedly building a tiny snowman. He chuckled. “Is that a challenge, Wilbur?”

His brother hummed, not looking up from his crooked snow sculpture. “No. No, you’d totally do it if it were a challenge. I’m just saying, dad would be disappointed. And you don’t want that, right?”

His voice always sounded like he was smiling, gentle and happy, but it always came with a subtle undertone of condescension that Techno chose a long time ago to ignore entirely lest he lose himself to a fit of rage every time his brother opened his mouth.

He sighed. “Fine. I won’t dropkick him.” His pocket watch got flipped open again. Not even a minute had passed. “But if he’s not here in ten minutes we’re leaving without him. I’ll tell dad that he had so much fun with his new friends that he wanted to spend winter break here. Easy.”

“Techno, you know how much Tommy loves ripping open his little presents. You think dad would believe you that he’d give that up so easily?”

Techno groaned. “Urgh, true… God he’s so annoying.”

“Who’s annoying?” a familiar voice behind them asked.

Techno jumped in surprise, then turned around slowly and replied with a stern voice, “You! You are! Where were you? We’ve been waiting for hours!”

Wilbur chimed in, “Twenty-one minutes. Hi, Tommy!”

“Hey Wilbur. What are you doing on the ground? Are you alright?”

The snowman-building brother smiled brightly. “Waiting for you.”

Techno stared at both, already fed up with being ignored and having to deal with them. “Can we please… just leave...” he sighed.

“Oh!” Wilbur jumped as if he just remembered something and pulled out his wand. After a quick spell mumbled under his breath, the snowman he’d just built exploded and he giggled happily. He then stood up and grabbed both of his brothers by the arms. “Okay, let’s go home!”

It took them a whole ten seconds before both Techno and Tommy wiggled out of Wilbur’s surprisingly strong grip. The rest of the walk to the train was spent with Tommy retelling, in length, every single even mildly interesting thing that had happened to him since he last talked to them, and Wilbur nodding along and offering little conversational snippets every so often to give him the feeling that he was being listened to. The walk was long, but it was Tommy’s first year at Hogwarts, so naturally he had a lot to share.

Techno tuned out of the conversation immediately. He knew that Tommy would repeat every single story for their dad at dinner, so what was the point of bothering to listen now?

They arrived at the train station and found that the train had, in fact, not departed yet.

“We’re not going to freeze to death. Is it Christmas already?” Techno commented sarcastically while Tommy was already climbing into the coach.

Wilbur laughed. “No dropkicking for Tommy. Merry Christmas!”

Tommy poked his head back out the door. “What?”

“Nothing.” Techno laughed, “Move. I prefer to be inside when the train starts moving.”

“Only if I get one of your chocolate frogs! No, two!” Tommy hummed and pointed at his eyes and then Techno’s before he disappeared back into the train. Wilbur and Techno exchanged a tired but amused look before they both followed their younger brother onto the Hogwarts Express.

The inside of the train was as warm as Techno had imagined, though the coziness was questionable. If the school’s hallways were buzzing, then the train’s hallway was violently vibrating. It was brimming with students trying to find their cabin, as well as those who were simply out to cause chaos while they were still allowed to walk around.

The twins shoved their way through the masses, trying to keep their youngest in sight. Tommy, of course, dashed through the crowd with little mind as to where he was supposed to go – simply excited to maybe run into one of the candy carts and to get away with stealing something under the cover of the omnipresent chaos.

Techno, however, decided to have none of that and pulled out his wand. Wilbur looked at him mildly concerned. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just wait till he comes back on his own? What if you hit someone else?”

Techno scoffed, mock offended. “I’m Slytherin’s undefeated duel champion. You think I can’t hit my scurrying gremlin brother from here?”

His eyes locked onto Tommy and he extended his wand-holding arm, keeping it straight.

“ _Carpe Retractum_ ,” he cast with a steady voice.

A hand made of light shot out of his wand towards Tommy, a thin glowing string connecting it to Techno’s wand. Upon arrival, the hand grabbed the hood of Tommy’s jacket and pulled him back, like a cat carrying a kitten by the scruff. Tommy yelled and struggled against it, but Techno’s magical grip was too strong for Tommy to break.

Although Techno couldn’t see Tommy being dragged through the crowd, he felt him give up his struggling around halfway as the wand’s pull relaxed. He looked over to Wilbur with a satisfied smile and Wilbur looked impressed for a moment before he burst out laughing. Techno furrowed his brows, confused, and looked back to his wand only to see Tommy’s jacket devoid of Tommy dangling in the glowing hand. He looked up into the crowd and spotted Tommy’s smug grin in the distance.

Techno grumbled angrily for a moment but then sighed, grabbed Tommy’s jacket out of the air and put his wand back.

“Okay, fine. Fine! He can be a nuisance to someone else. I don’t care.”

With that, he opened the cabin door they were standing in front of and entered. Wilbur stood in the door a little longer just to laugh at his twin failing his display of power, before he, too, entered their cabin.

The atmosphere inside the cabin was the polar opposite from the hallway. A gentle candle scent hung in the air, the lighting was cozy and, most importantly, it was empty apart from the two of them. They sat down across from each other on the soft seating. Techno savored the silence for a moment.

“Maybe you’re right. Letting him run around isn’t all that bad.” He stretched his arms and legs before he looked up to spot a wide grin on Wilbur’s face. “What?”

“Oh, you know. You could’ve just cast that at him as a person. Instead of his jacket. I just thought that was funny, mister duel champion.” He casually slid out of his shoes and rotated, his legs now resting on the cabin’s wall. “Just saying.”

Techno rubbed his temples. “I know. I wanted to be nice. I heard that struggling against a direct Carpe Retractum charm hurts like hell.”

“Oh really? Why the sudden change of heart? I remember you wanting to dropkick him - oh! - seventeen minutes ago!” He had turned his head so that he now looked at Techno upside down, a wide smile still ever-present on his face.

“There is a difference between pummeling someone and pulling out their soul. I assumed you’d understand.”

A soft, understanding smile formed on his lips and Wilbur’s smile adjusted to match.

“Ah, yeah. I suppose I do.”

A comfortable silence settled in the cabin. Techno leaned his head on the window, looking outside and watching the last students make a run for the train before it finally started rumbling and moving.

The view of the train station was soon replaced by quickly moving snowy trees and shrubbery, and Techno felt his stress get similarly replaced by a sense of blissful anticipation at finally being home again. No longer having to be the responsible one. No longer having to wear this social mask.

A humming noise made Techno snap out of his thoughts and look over to Wilbur, who had propped himself up on one arm.

“I had a dream last night,” he started.

Techno hummed back. “A weird one or a prophecy?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Hard to tell. It feels important though.”

Techno nodded and leaned away from the window to prop his head on his folded hands.

“I’m listening.”

He loved Wilbur’s dream stories ever since they were kids and realized that some of them were filled with unspoken secrets and things to come. And even if one wasn’t a prophecy, they were still usually pretty funny.

“Okay, so… a lot of the dream was just me staring at some… black hole, I guess? It was really big and pulsating and weird. Creeped me out.” He shuddered, then continued. “I saw it in our house at some point. It got bigger and bigger until our whole house was gone, but then – poof – there it was again. Perfectly fine.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what that means, but it doesn’t feel good… Oh! I also saw a boy. Our age I’m guessing. Maybe a year younger. He was sitting in a destroyed building or something and looked bloody scared.”

Techno hummed. “Do you think that building was our house?”

Wilbur thought for a moment, but then shook his head. “I don’t think so. I remember many, many stones lying around and our house is mostly wood, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Different building, then!” he announced with a smile. “Still weird though. What do you think?” He looked up to his brother expectantly. The addressed brother made a thinking sound and scratched his chin.

“Sounds like there is something dangerous in our family that can hurt others, but not us. Maybe…?”

They exchanged a thoughtful look. Both of them shared a speculation that they didn’t dare voicing, just in case the subject of their worries was leaning against the door, listening. Instead, they decided to dip back into their familiar silence – their shared thoughts twirling through their heads. Tommy just started learning magic. Who knew what he was capable of? If he was anything like his brothers, a destroyed house might not be that far out of the picture…

Their thoughts were interrupted by the cabin’s door being flung open.

“I’m back, bitch!”

Sure enough, Tommy stood in the doorway, his arms holding up the bottom of his shirt, where he had turned it into a makeshift pouch for his pile of presumably stolen candy.

“You’re impossible…” Techno murmured and buried his face in his hands, already dreading the moment when the candy cart’s keeper would notice and fine them.

“Yeah! Impossible to catch, big man!” he laughed and let himself flop down next to Techno, the scavenged candy scattering over his lap. “I still demand those three chocolate frogs, by the way.” He smiled brightly and held his open hands towards Techno.

Techno scoffed. “As a reward for what, exactly?”

His little brother absentmindedly ripped open a pack of Bertie Bott’s beans and threw a handful into his mouth before replying, “Two for letting you on the train and one in advance for not snitching to dad.” He grinned, his mouth full, and stretched his hands out again. “Frog please.”

Wilbur, who had only watched until now, hummed delightedly. “Techno, did you hear that? He said please! Now you have to.”

Tommy swallowed down the last of his beans and happily pointed to Wilbur. “Wilbur! My bestest brother! I knew you’d have my back.”

Techno groaned and rummaged through his coat until he found the palm-sized package. He opened it begrudgingly and let the chocolate frog jump on his hand. Tommy held his hands out again, expectantly, but instead Techno simply held his frog-holding hand up and flicked it in Tommy’s direction. The frog, in turn, jumped directly on Tommy’s face, making him jump back in surprise and hit his head on the wall – the movement causing his collected candy to fall from his lap and scatter onto the floor.

“Hey! Fuck you!” Tommy yelled and Techno and Wilbur burst into laughter. The youngest tried to suppress his own laughter for the sake of being dramatic but couldn’t hold it for very long. His brothers’ laughter was simply too contagious. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you're enjoying it so far =)
> 
> Just wanted to put it out there that I made a specific dreamsmp / fanfic writing twitter account at twitter.com/Stray_Comma !  
> I made it so I could interact w/ others in the fandom, but I'll also share fic writing thoughts & perhaps wips/concept art ?  
> Consider following me there if that sounds interesting to u ! 
> 
> ok that is all, see u next week !


	4. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno, Wilbur and Tommy arrive at home, where their dad shares some unexpected news with them.

The sound of clattering plates and moving chairs filled the living room of the sleepy house. It had been a long evening of chatting and catching up after an even longer day of travelling home. Their train had gotten stuck on one of the many bridges on their way and subsequently caused them to be three hours late. Three hours that their dad, Phil, who was picking them up at the train station, had to spend waiting in his slowly freezing car. A truly unpleasant experience for everyone involved. But at least now they were home, safe and sound. It was undoubtedly worth it, in the end, though none of them cared to voice that.

“… and then he leaned out of the window with his whole chest to grab that fucking bird. I swear to god there were like ten of us just watching him do that! And part of me- part of me was like, fuck yeah, go save that fucker. Be a hero like we Gryffindors are meant to be, you know? But then, like, I was also thinking, man, this boy is either fully prepared to fucking die for an animal or he’s a complete moron, like-” Tommy interrupted his story with loud laughter. “I guess it’s both! I really think it’s both. Stupid fucker but man, I respect it. The whole house was talking about nothing else for a few days!”

Phil and Techno joined Tommy’s laughter while Wilbur chuckled a bit. Techno felt once more validated in his assumption that Tommy would retell all his stories for their dad, considering how they didn’t get Wilbur to laugh all that much all evening. Either it was that, or Wilbur’s head was… occupied.

Phil placed a freshly washed plate into the dish rack and replied to Tommy, not looking up from the sink, “It still makes no goddamn sense to me why they think putting all kids with the same fucking personality in a house together is a good idea! At least Ravenclaws just annoy the living shit out of each other and Slytherins are little lying bastards, but you Gryffindors are genuinely a fucking danger to yourselves!”

“Hey! We’re not-” Tommy replied, but interrupted himself again with laughter. “Ehh, I guess that’s kinda true. But! It’s funny!”

Techno chuckled while putting away a glass he just dried. “The hat really didn’t make a mistake with your sorting, huh? After you wanted to be a Slytherin like us so badly.”

“Well…” Tommy leaned back, tilting the chair he was sitting in dangerously far backwards. “I thought my strongest traits are how cunningly smart and cool I am. But the hat was right! I am first and foremost a hero who’s really fucking brave and powerful and shit.”

Phil and Techno fall back into laughter.

“Yeah, right,” Phil commented lightheartedly.

Wilbur, who had been quiet for an unusually long time now, finally chimed in. “I didn’t know heroes steal candy.”

“Heroes do what?” Phil broke his stare away from the sink and now looked over to Tommy, his piercing blue eyes challenging his son.

Tommy fell forward and frantically waved his hands. “Nothing! Nothing, nothing, nothing! Heroes certainly don’t do that, Wilbur, I don’t know what you’re talking about, quite frankly!”

His dad continued to stare him down. “Aha.” His unamused voice ran a chill down the brothers’ collective spines.

Tommy laughed nervously and stood up, his quick steps carrying him to where his brothers were standing, grabbing a towel and a few forks while yelling, “Do you need help with that?”

Phil chuckled, his eyes losing a bit of their sharpness, softening up again. “Yeah, actually. Also, the bathroom needs cleaning, while you’re on it.”

“Sure. Sure! Gladly…” Tommy replied through gritted teeth before he leaned over to Wilbur. “I’m going to stab you in your sleep,” he whispered.

“I’d like to see you try,” Wilbur whispered back, an unfaltering smile on his lips.

They finished the rest of the dishes in relative silence, a little banter between the brothers interrupting it every so often.

When Tommy put away the last plate and closed the pantry, he sighed and leaned over the counter in theatrical agony. “I’m gonna go clean the bathroom now… Not because I’m some poor fucking kid who has to work or who’s scared of their dad – because I’m not! I could totally fuck you up!” He pointed at Phil threateningly, who just chuckled. “I’m doing this because I’m a hero who puts the general good before themselves! Yeah! I’m gonna sacrifice my sleep and health and shit for you three so you better be fucking grateful!”

Wilbur put his hand on his chest. “Oh, thank you, Tommy. I’m feeling so very grateful right now for your heroic sacrifice of _cleaning the bathroom_!”

Tommy stomped on the ground and pointed at Wilbur, angrily yelling, “Fuck you!” before pointing back and forth between his and Wilbur’s eyes. He then stormed up the stairs while the three others started laughing.

After a bit, Techno started yawning and stretched his arms. “That was fun, but I should probably head to bed before I fall asleep standing.”

Wilbur hummed in agreement. “It is kind of late.”

Phil made a thinking sound, his voice unsure. “Wait. Before you do that…”

His sons looked at him, questioning. “What’s up, dad?” Techno asked.

“I… I need to talk to you two about something. Before you go upstairs.” He walked over to their now empty dining table and sat down, Techno and Wilbur following suit.

Phil tapped on the table, still visibly unsure how to approach this conversation. “We’re… We’re five now.”

Techno blinked a few times, surprised, while Wilbur just tilted his head and softly asked, “Another brother?”

Phil nodded hesitantly. “Probably. I don’t think he’d understand the concept yet, but… He’s here. In the tower room.”

“That’s not what I was expecting, to be honest,” Techno commented and scratched his chin. “What’s his deal? Where’d you pick him up?”

Their dad made a pained expression. “Knowing wouldn’t do you any good. You know that. And,” he sighed, “I barely know anything about him, either. He’s very scared, barely talks, keeps trying to run away… I put up that barrier spell, you know, just in case – and he actually triggered it. Like, a lot. I just-” His face got buried in his hands. “I don’t know.”

Techno had been here before. Waking up one morning and going to bed with the knowledge of having yet another brother. It was a bittersweet thing. On the one hand, he loved his brothers – his family – more than anything else. His dad knew what he was doing, and he trusted his choices. But it was scary, too, to meet someone new with the expectation of becoming that close. It was so easy for reality to be not quite how he’d imagine it to be if he was this far out of control. He’d have to just let it happen and hope for the best – that, out of all things, truly terrified him.

Wilbur’s soft voice brought Techno back to the living room. “You saved his life, didn’t you? Barely had time to react and now you don’t know what to do with him?” He had stood up and placed his hand on his dad’s shoulder - a gentle, comforting touch.

Phil looked up, his expression trying to keep the truth away yet failing miserably.

“It’s okay. We can figure it out together.” Wilbur’s warm smile attempted to heal his dad’s worries and succeeded partially as Phil’s face slowly mirrored that of his son. “Yeah. We will. We always have.”

Wilbur nodded, then looked around, seemingly searching for something. “Did he eat already?”

Phil furrowed his brows. “What?”

“The boy! Did he eat already? He wasn’t here for dinner, after all.”

“Oh! Fuck!” Phil stood up in an instant, scrambling to open the muggle fridge they had put their leftovers in. “I forgot! I wanted to bring him something before dinner was ready but then we got here late and- urgh.”

Wilbur had followed him and maneuvered himself between his dad and the opened fridge. “Hey, it’s okay! You must be tired, dad. How about Techno and I bring him something and you go to bed? We can manage. Right, Techno?”

“What?” Techno replied, confused. “I mean… Yeah? I guess?”

“Yeah!” Wilbur echoed.

Phil looked over to Techno and then back to Wilbur. He shrugged. “Okay, sure. Why not. Just don’t do anything weird to him or so help me god. He’s already scared enough as is.”

Wilbur jumped excitedly. “Don’t worry about it! We’ll just say hello and then be on our way!”

“Alright…” Phil stepped away from the fridge, hesitating for a moment before going to leave the room. “Goodnight, boys.”

“Night, dad!” they both replied with varying amounts of energy.

When Phil had left the room, Techno stood up slowly and walked over to Wilbur who was generously adding a bit of everything to a plate he had grabbed.

“Okay, Wilbur. What’s going on?” Techno felt that Wilbur wasn’t off his rocker for fun and neither for regular Wilbur reasons. His twin was planning something, that much he was certain of.

“The boy from the dream!” Wilbur offered in-between frantic scooping.

“You think it’s him?” Techno asked, surprised, but nodded after a split second of consideration. “Wait, yeah, that’d make sense.”

“Right!” Wilbur smiled brightly at him. “It doesn’t have to be, of course, but it’s likely!”

“And you need to know. Right now,” Techno concluded.

“Yes!” He pulled out his wand and started circling it above the plate. After a few circles he picked it up and pushed it towards Techno, who instinctively grabbed the now heated up plate. “Ow! That’s hot!”

Wilbur chuckled. “I know! That’s the point!” He looked at his twin’s pained expression and laughed. “Don’t look at me like that! You know I know that you can barely feel that.”

Techno softly laughed alongside him. “Alright, fair enough. Let’s go, then.”

They made their way all the way up to the lone door on the third floor in silence, trying not to alert their youngest brother who was audibly scrubbing the bathroom floor as the two of them sneaked past. Techno opened his mouth to try and discuss a strategy with Wilbur, but his brother had already politely knocked on the tower room’s door.

After a few seconds of considerate waiting, Wilbur opened the door and stepped in carefully. Techno sighed and followed him.

The room was dark except for a lone lit candle on the big table on the opposite side of the room that a slouched figure was sitting at. The figure startled at the sound of the door opening and turned around, his side pressed against the table.

“Hello,” Wilbur offered and waved softly, “I’m Wilbur and this is Techno.”

Techno waved awkwardly. “Hey…”

“We brought you food! Heard you didn’t have dinner yet.” Wilbur smiled friendly at the new boy and grabbed the plate out of Techno’s hands. It was still very much hot, and he had half a mind to offer Wilbur to carry it for him, but then he remembered that he really didn’t want to make this interaction even more awkward than it already was and stayed where he was. Wilbur surely knew what he was doing. Some vaguely singed hands couldn’t stop him from executing whatever plan he had set his mind to – one of the few things they had in common.

Wilbur made a few slow steps towards the boy, visibly aiming to set the food down on the table he was sitting at. But after roughly half the way, the boy suddenly pulled out a kitchen knife from seemingly nowhere and pointed it at Wilbur threateningly. “S-Stay where you are!”

Techno watched his brother take half a step back, surprised. “Oh. Okay! Sure!” Wilbur hesitated. “Where do you want me to put this, then?”

The boy looked at him, brows furrowed, visibly trying to keep his extended arm steady. Techno noticed the boy’s eyes darting through the room, his racing thoughts and considerations virtually written on his face. A feeling akin to sympathy introduced itself to Techno’s mind as he watched the boy struggle with such a mundane interaction. His fear was almost cartoonish in nature and made Techno wonder whether he was simply overacting to fish for sympathy or if he was actually this utterly broken.

The boy, finally, wordlessly pointed to his nightstand with his free hand. Wilbur nodded and turned around to put the plate where the boy had told him to. “There you go! Enjoy your meal!”

He turned back around, waved again and called out “Goodnight!” before walking past Techno back into the hall.

Techno, too, now stared at the boy for a moment before he added a quiet, “Night,” and followed his twin outside – the door softly closing behind him.

The moment Wilbur heard the small _clack_ of the door’s bolt, he grabbed Techno’s shoulders and grinned at him brightly, his voice excited yet quiet. “It’s him!”

Techno smiled back at his twin, although he wasn’t sure whether that was truly something to be happy about.


	5. Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno and Wilbur have a discussion about the newest developments.

The downside of gaining more family members, as Techno had come to learn, was that the house they were living in did not magically grow alongside them. Techno used to have the funky L-shaped room on the first floor all to himself. And Wilbur had his room on the second floor. All was well.

But when Phil arrived with a tiny curled up Tommy tucked under his big winter mantle one stormy night, they suddenly had to shuffle closer together. Wilbur moved in with Techno so that Tommy could have the room closest to Phil’s, in case his night terrors got the better of him again and made him feel unsafe in his lonely four walls. Even as a small child Tommy was already too prideful to admit that he was scared and craved familiar closeness, so letting him walk over to their dad’s room and crawl under his warm comforter in the middle of the night just to leave again in the morning before Phil would wake up and notice felt like the simplest solution. Although, of course, Phil always noticed.

This way, Techno, who had always disliked sharing his personal space with anyone, had to get used to sharing his room with his twin brother. An arrangement that sounded reasonable at first. However, their twinship was but a thin bridge between the fragile islands the two boys’ minds were built upon. A bridge that, over the years, the two of them learned to expand and walk over comfortably. But back then? Being stuck together in such a small room threatened their islands to clash and crumble constantly.

The only way to solve this issue was with space. But since the house’s tower room would be built much later and every other room of the house was already occupied, they had to get creative. And creative they got.

Well… Wilbur did, anyway. One day he grabbed the family’s enchanted tent from the storage room next door and set it up in their room. A tent that, when entered, would reveal a room much larger than the size of the tent would suggest. These tents were meant to only be used for travel, and the use of the extension charm it was enchanted with was heavily regulated, but neither of these facts stopped Wilbur from discovering and deciding on the best possible solution for them.

Soon enough, they moved all their furniture and belongings in the tent – only leaving a few bookcases and their two favorite bean bags in their actual room; Just in case they ever felt like reading in natural sunlight; something that Techno in particular greatly enjoyed doing up to this day.

And just like that, he was sitting in his favorite bean bag a day after returning home, a novel propped up on his crossed legs. His mind was only filled with tales of star-crossed lovers and blissful nonsense - a momentary escape from his worldly stressors that he appreciated greatly. So unfortunately momentary in fact, that-

The door to their room slammed open. The unanticipated BANG made Techno jump out of his mental zone and bean bag at once. He looked up, startled, to see his twin standing in the doorway with a mountain of stacked books of various sizes clasped in his arms.

“What the hell, Wilbur!? That jumpscared me!”

Wilbur, without answering, kicked the door shut behind him and made his way towards their tent, the stacked books wobbling dangerously.

Techno snapped his fingers in his brother’s direction. “Hey! I’m talking to you! What are you doing?”

Wilbur stopped and threw a quick glance to Techno, an excited smile on his face. “Stop complaining and follow me!”

Techno watched as his brother stumbled through the tent’s entrance and disappeared behind the fabric door that loosely fell shut behind him. He sighed, put a bookmark in his now impossible-to-read novel and stood up begrudgingly. If he didn’t follow Wilbur now, he’d just pop back out of the tent in a minute or two and drag Techno in against his will. There was nothing he could do about that - apart from unreasonable overreactions - so there was no point in delaying the inevitable, Techno concluded, and entered the tent.

He was greeted by the familiar sight of their old brown rug in the middle of their room mixed with the unfortunate sight of a plentitude of scattered books all over it. They reached all the way from Techno’s bed on the left to Wilbur’s bed on the right, in front of which his brother had sat down with one of the many books in hand.

Techno wrestled down his desire to complain about the chaos and instead cleared the spot in front of his bed lazily with one foot before sitting down and randomly grabbing a book, mirroring his brother. He opened it on a random page and scratched his chin theatrically.

“Ah, yes… Hm… I see… Yes…” He started flipping through the pages without registering any parts of its content and closed it again. “…Okay, what are we doing?”

Wilbur giggled and held up the book he had picked up so that Techno could see the cover. It read _Mythical Creatures and Legends_ and had a big image of a crowned centaur behind the bold letters.

“Okay…?” Techno tilted his head in mild confusion. Did Wilbur just want to have an intense reading session with him? Or was this a newfound interest of his that he wanted to share?

His eyes wandered over the books on the ground whose titles he could read. _History of Hunts and Hybrids_ , _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , _Introduction to the Mythical Wilderness II_ …

“Okay… They’re all about myths and creatures. But why…?”

Wilbur looked up into Techno’s eyes, his giggly smile turning mellow. “We need to figure out what he is, Techno. We can’t just live on like this and one day get destroyed by whatever power he’s hiding.” He sighed and looked back down, his voice quieter. “You know what I saw. I’m worried.”

Seeing his twin this calm and serious about something was extremely rare. It must’ve bothered him much more than Techno anticipated. Sure, the dream foretold demise and destruction, but that wasn’t new to them.

Maybe because the boy was still a stranger - an even more unpredictable force than their youngest brother. They didn’t know what Tommy was, either, but at least they developed a feeling for his behavior over the years. This new boy, on the other hand…

“Okay,” Techno nodded, “but where do you want to start? What we know about him is glorified nothing at this point. He could be anything.”

Wilbur furrowed his brows. “That’s not true. He told some stories yesterday that made me think… And you called him a gremlin, remember? I wanted to look into that too, just to make sure.”

Techno shook his head, bewildered. Confused. “What…?” Then it clicked. “Oh my god, you’re talking about Tommy, aren’t you.”

Wilbur joined in on his confused expression. “Yeah…? Who were you talking about?”

“The new boy…?” His arms raised in a gesture that meant to say “obviously”.

His brother exhaled, surprised. “Huh. Guess I forgot about him.”

The casualness with which Wilbur disregarded their newest family addition irritated Techno. “What do you mean you forgot about him?! You had a vision that our entire house gets devoured by darkness and a few hours later we get home and meet this weird new kid! You think that’s a coincidence? You really think, ah yes, must be Tommy?!”

“Yeah!?” Wilbur put away the book he was still holding, the frustration in his voice rising like the morning tide. “You said it yourself, we know absolutely nothing about the kid! It’s not out of the picture that Tommy wrecked his home and Phil saved him from that. Why else would he keep all intel to himself? He’s clearly protecting someone.”

“Yeah, _us_! He tries to keep us out of it to protect us. He always does that, Wilbur! That tells us nothing.” Techno leaned back and dragged his hands over his eyes, sighing. “Tommy destroying some random kids’ house makes absolutely no sense. You think the teachers would let him leave Hogwarts for a little joyride on a broom he barely learned how to stay on?”

Wilbur slammed his hand on the ground and then angrily pointed at Techno. “You’re making assumptions again! He could be a shapeshifter, he could be able to fly on his own somehow, he could be able to turn invisible or teleport or- I don’t know! But- But that’s my point!” His fingers clawed into his empty hands, desperately trying to grasp the hidden truth that he was chasing. “Just because it doesn’t make sense yet doesn’t mean we can just rule it out like that!”

Techno slowly looked up into his brother’s agitated eyes, actively trying to suppress the anger that transpired from an unknown depth of his mind. “Do you _want_ him to be dangerous? _Special_ , like us?” He spit the word “special” like an insult that escaped him in a moment of weakness.

“No!” Wilbur cried, “No, I don’t! I want him to be happy, damn it! I’m just worried that he’s not! I’m worried that he’s hurting and confused and hides it from us because- You know how he is! He wouldn’t tell us even if his life depended on it!”

Techno scoffed, softness trying and struggling to push its way through his rippled feelings. “You’re overestimating his ability to hide things from us. It’ll be fine.”

“But what if it’s not?!” Wilbur spit back, “Sure, I might be overestimating him, but I might also be right! I’d rather be overly careful and stupid than overly confident and a murderer!”

Techno choked on the softness crawling up his throat. “Ah. Okay.”

He felt his body stand up and walk away from his so-called brother, his hands balled into a fist to hide how much they had started to shake.

“No, I didn’t- Techno, wait!” his brother croaked as he realized his mistake.

Techno paused at the door, trying to control his breath. “No, it’s fine. I get it.”

With that, he left. He left the tent, the room, the floor. His mind was racing, violently tumbling over his raging thoughts and feelings he was so desperately trying to hold down and together. Just a little longer, he thought, strained, while his feet carried him to the bathroom on the second floor.

The door clicked shut behind him and he stumbled forward, his shaking hands rummaging through the bathroom cabinet. They finally got caught on a familiar softness and Techno ripped it out with little regard to the order inside that Tommy must’ve painstakingly restored last night.

He looked at the familiar red and white cape in his hands and exhaled slowly, attempting to use the comfort he associated with this particular piece of fabric to calm himself enough to be able to trust his hands again.

It took a few moments until he felt the vague embrace of his faked confidence again. He nodded to himself, threw the cape over his shoulders and opened the window. A gentle, icy breeze welcomed him to the entrance of his safest place. His hand extended carefully to the vines that crept up the side of the rounded wall to his right. They had always been there for him and he, in turn, always made sure to give them extra attention when it was time to take care of their garden.

The vines in his hands felt cold, but not frozen. Relieved, he climbed onto the windowsill, legs dangling outside. He exhaled, again, before carefully scaling up the wall.

The roof he arrived on looked exactly as he had left it. The blanket that he had pinned to the roof tiles years ago was gently swaying in the winter wind, inviting him to sit down. Break down.

Nobody else dared to come up here, so it was the perfect place for Techno to be truly alone. Undisturbed. Shamelessly himself.

He let himself slide down the tower’s outside wall, pulling in his legs close to his body as he landed on his blanket. He pulled the soft fur collar of his cape as high as he could and put his face into his hands, defeated.

He sighed, his breath finally shaking as much as it had threatened to do for what felt like eternity now. As he let himself finally feel what he’d been keeping bottled up all this time, his thoughts, memories and regrets exploded all at once and messily spilled over.

The quietest of sobs escaped him.


	6. Rooftop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream tries to escape, again, but this time runs into Techno on the way out.

On his fifth day of being kept in this strange house against his will, the boy noticed that the equally strange barrier outside of his window was gone. He didn’t expect it to be gone, of course, when he opened the window to let some fresh air into his dusty room. When he reached out to touch the strange glow once more to try and make sense of it all.

It was magic. That much he managed to figure out on his own.

It was a simple case of process of elimination, really. It wasn’t natural, that much was obvious. But it couldn’t be mechanical, either. The boy had checked the part of the wall that the barrier seemed to be attached to dozens of times; there wasn’t even a trace of metal or wires or anything of the sort. He even went as far as painstakingly clawing off the outmost wall layer directly under the barrier – which just made it extend into the newfound space. The only reasonable explanation, he concluded, was magic.

He knew about magic. He knew it existed and he knew how terrible magic users were. He was very aware that, if it weren’t for magic, his mother would still be alive. And, even better yet, he would’ve never existed. She would’ve had a pleasant life with her family, who would’ve never lost themselves to grief and who, in turn, never would’ve given up a child that would turn out to be destruction incarnate to a sanctuary that would subsequently go up in flames four years after. None of that would’ve happened. Everything would’ve been fine.

But no. Magic was real and so was he. There was nothing he could do about that except suffer the consequences. The consequences, which, right now, appeared to be him being stuck in a magically fortified room for all eternity. He had already reasoned with himself that, maybe, he deserved this. Whatever he did four days ago was atrocious. Inhumane. A tragedy. And even if he didn’t choose for it to happen – he didn’t even understand it - it was undoubtedly his fault.

But even if everything bad that happened to him was deserved – he didn’t want it to happen. He didn’t want to be punished for the crimes he committed. He was aware that it was selfish of him, but it was what he was feeling deep down; there was no point in denying that.

So when he noticed the barrier was gone, he selfishly decided to take the opportunity and escape his consequences.

He made sure to throw on the old jacket he had found in the room’s closet before turning to leave. It was freezing cold winter outside, and while he was a risk-taker, he wasn’t stupid. The icy gust of wind that greeted him as he poked his head through the window to double-check his route only further confirmed his thoughts. His journey through the snowy plains before him was going to be tough, but he was ready.

Carefully, he put one leg after the other through the open space and sat down on the windowsill. The drop to the roof below was maybe a full room’s height, he guessed. If he held onto the ledge with his hands and had his body hang down, the rest of the drop would be maybe half of his body’s length. A human could easily survive that, he reckoned. So, he set out to do just that.

There were several things to be said on why his plan ultimately failed. That his legs warmed the ice that covered the windowsill and thus made it too slippery to confidently hold. That he didn’t even have the strength to support his body’s weight with just his small, shivering hands. And, most importantly, that he didn’t anticipate company.

“What are you doing?”

The deep voice appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and his resulting startled twitch was the straw that broke the boy’s grip. He felt himself fall down; and this wouldn’t have been all too bad if it weren’t for him also misjudging the steepness of the roof below. It was, as it turned out, very steep.

His legs slipped on the icy tiles immediately upon contact and his entire body followed suit. He found himself sliding uncontrollably down a roof that was a dangerous amount of feet up in the air. He was sliding and sliding, and it felt like an eternity, but it was probably not much more than two or three seconds that he spent flailing and desperately trying to grab anything at all as sheer panic overtook his body before he eventually collided with something.

He collided with something.

He was on a descent to certain death on an empty rooftop with absolutely nothing to stop him - and yet he was stopped. He was stopped by… What? The boy had looked down to his stomach to find out what had stopped him, but his eyes only met the same sort of glow that the magical barrier had emitted. Did they just move the barrier further out, so he’d stop destroying their walls?

“Bruuuuuuh. That was close, man, what are you doing?! Do you have a death wish or something?”

Right. The voice. There was someone else up here. He frantically looked up to locate the voice’s source and met eyes with a boy who looked roughly his age. He was standing on the flat part of the roof a few feet away from him, his right arm extended in his direction, the yellow glow going all the way from the boy’s hand to his stomach. His stomach. The stomach whose collision made him cheat death. A collision with something that looked like the magical barrier. Something that was also magical, then. Something that was being cast by the boy on the rooftop. A magic user. A magic user… saved him? That was impossible.

“Stop staring at me and come over here, geez.”

The boy felt the middle of his body being moved towards the other boy against his will; his feet simply trying to hold their footing on something, anything, as his mind continued going haywire over the overwhelming loss of control that he was now experiencing once more.

When his body stopped moving and he no longer felt the grip around his middle, he dropped down on his knees, his hands grasping for the little spaces between the roof’s tiles, trying so very hard not to slip again while his mind reeled back.

“Soo… Wanna talk to me and tell me what’s going on, or…”

He heard the voice and he knew the other boy was standing there and looking at him and he knew he had to answer but his mind was reeling and his body was shaking and he didn’t know what was going on but he had to answer but he didn’t hear the words, only the voice, and he was shaking and scared and-

The other boy clicked his tongue. “Busy freaking out, alright.”

The boy looked up and watched as the figure shrugged and turned around to sit down, his back turned to him, looking up into the starry night sky.

“Why?”

He didn’t mean to ask it aloud. He didn’t mean to say anything, in fact, but the unexpectedness of someone _dropping_ an order like that – or, dare he consider, someone _waiting_ for him to be ready to speak – took him so off-guard that the small word simply slipped out.

The other turned his head to look at him over his shoulder. “Huh?”

He swallowed air, trying to get his voice to cooperate. “Uh… W-Why aren’t you mad?”

He turned back around halfway and scoffed, amused. “Oh, am I supposed to?”

“Y-Yeah…? You just caught me trying to escape, you’re supposed to… to…”

“Stop you?”

He nodded, his body still trembling.

The other sighed. “Listen. I do not care. I was sitting here, minding my own business, and heard some noises so I wanted to see what’s going on.” He shrugged. “If you wanna run off and freeze to death in the 50 miles of plain fields between here and the nearest city – be my guest. Would kinda suck for dad after he went through all that trouble to save your life, I guess, but being stupid is a choice you are free to make.”

He hummed and pointed to the steep roof section the boy had slipped on. “Just try and avoid being stupid over there, if possible. I’d really hate waking up to your bloody corpse outside my bedroom window. Ruins the whole day, I reckon.”

“Oh- Okay…”

He had hoped that, if someone were to talk to him, he’d find out more about his situation. Become less confused. But this conversation just now had proved him wrong. There was so much more confusion to experience.

He struggled sorting all the questions that appeared in his mind. Why didn’t this guy care about him escaping? Why was he so nonchalant about him dying? Why didn’t he care at all? Why did he save him, then? Why was he here, on a rooftop, at night? Who was he?

The boy looked into the other’s face, the nearly full moon illuminating his features from the side. He had seen him before, he realized. He had been so busy with having all these emotions and questions, he didn’t even register who the other was. But he remembered now. He stared at the other’s face, an increasingly awkward silence between the two that the boy did not notice, as he recalled the two boys who had entered his room the day before.

They had looked identical. Both had the exact same face, the same wavy brown hair poking out of the same black beanie, wearing the same model of glasses and the same grey clothes. It was uncanny, really. As if they deliberately decided to be as indistinguishable as possible. They had told him their names, but with the way that they looked, he was set up for failure. He couldn’t tell them apart last night and he certainly couldn’t do it a full day later.

“Which one of the two are you?”

The question asked itself before he could consider whether asking it was a wise decision. Now that he had a straw of knowledge to grasp, the feeling of recognizing _something_ , he was overwhelmed by curiosity.

“Huuuuh?” The addressed boy looked at him confused, making him duck in the worry of having blurted out something wrong. But before he could say anything for himself, the other understood the question. “Ohhh, you mean between me and Wilbur… I’m Techno,” he chuckled, “you know, the one you didn’t threaten with a knife.”

“Ah… Yeah…” He tried to mirror the other’s – Techno’s – smile, but it turned out rather pained-looking. He wasn’t sure whether he was allowed to joke about it; Techno sure did, but he? He opted to look away, to be safe.

Another awkward silence made its way between the two and this time, the boy noticed. It was quiet on the roof. Just the icy wind ruffling through the evergreens nearby. And they were both sitting there, alone, unsure where to go from here. Techno surely knew a safe way off the roof, but he didn’t, so he was positively stuck here.

Techno coughed. “Anyhow… What’s yours?”

“What?” He looked back at him, confused.

“Your name. What is it?”

He scratched his neck, unsure. “I don’t think… I have one of those…?”

Techno shook his head, confused. “One of those… Wait, how did people refer to you, then?” He tilted his head. “You did live with others at some point, right…?”

“Uh… Yeah.” He hummed, thinking back to everything he was forced to leave behind – for better or for worse. “They… mostly called me bastard, I guess? Or devil incarnate…” His second sentence was barely a whisper. “Uh, they sometimes called me ‘the boy’ when visitors were over… that was kinda nice…”

Techno pinched the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowed. “Jesus Christ… Well, that’s no good.”

“What do you mean?” He felt like his answer was truthful. Unreasonably so, even.

“We’re _not_ going to call you that.” He exhaled and started tapping on his cheek, visibly thinking. “And ‘the scared kid that lives in our attic’ is kinda a mouth-full, to be honest. So… You need a proper name.”

The scared kid that lived in their attic nodded. “Okay…”

“You’ve got one in mind?”

He thought for a moment, but he didn’t even know where to start. “No… I’ve never thought about it, to be honest…”

Techno continued thinking and tapping, his eyes scanning the boy before him.

Suddenly, he pointed at him. “Got it. We’ll call you Dream.”

He moved a bit backwards and shook his head, pure confusion written on his face.

Before he could sort his words enough to express his confusion, Techno had already started explaining. “Okay, so, bear with me. Wilbur – my… my twin – had a dream about you the night before we met you.” He spotted the boy’s expression upon hearing that and smiled understandingly. “He does that sometimes, don’t worry about it.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at him once more. “Anyhow! He predicted you coming here, so it was basically fate. Therefore, I feel like your name should be related to that. So… Dream.” After finishing his explanation and presumably missing any excitement on the boy’s face, he looked away. “Unless you have a better idea, I guess.”

“I don’t,” he replied quietly.

Techno turned back around, a big smile on his face. “Great! Well, then - nice to meet you, Dream.”

Techno extended his hand towards him and he – Dream – cautiously took it. He had seen the adults do this before and was delighted to finally get a chance to be this sophisticated. He smiled – his first genuine smile in an awfully long time – and awkwardly moved their joined hands up and down.

After a moment of amused hand wiggling, Techno laughed and pulled his hand back to stretch his arms. “Nice, nice… Well, anyways, Dream, I don’t know about you but I’m kinda starting to transform into a solid block of ice, so I’ll go back inside if that’s cool.”

He stood up and walked a few steps away from Dream’s unaltered position before he stopped and looked back. “Right. You don’t know how to get down,” he chuckled, “it’s over here, come on.”

The boy stood up with wiggly steps and carefully followed the other to the edge of the rooftop, where Techno sat down on the ledge. “There’s vines here,” he pointed at the rounded wall to their right. “They go all the way down to the ground if you still fancy freezing to death,” he shrugged, “either way, I’ll take the bathroom window one floor down. I’ll leave it open for you; in case you change your mind. Just, like, close it when you’re done deciding.”

With that, Techno confidently grabbed the vines with both hands and swung down. Dream took a step forward and watched as the other safely climbed down and into the aforementioned bathroom window. It looked so easy, but Dream was sure it was anything but.

When the boy thought he was now left alone with his thoughts for good, Techno poked his head back out. “See? It’s easy!” He laughed. “Anyhow, see you around. Or not, whichever. Goodnight, Dream!”

“Night,” he replied quietly, but Techno had already disappeared into the room.

Dream sat down, carefully, and found himself most literally in front of the decision on whether he’d stay or leave. This was it, he told himself. The way out was right there. There was no point in trying to escape tomorrow if he could’ve had it today.

But then why did he feel more and more drawn to the window below? It was really cold, he supposed, and the weirdly indifferent but also vaguely nice boy did tell him that the next city was 50 miles away. He was already shaking from the cold and he was outside for barely 15 minutes. Maybe he wasn’t ready, after all. Maybe he was simply scared out of his mind and desperately trying to run from his reality – but his reality would follow him even into the coldest fields and snowiest plains.

Was it worth it, then? To run from a situation that had not yet proven itself to be worse than whatever he had before? He was so used to everything getting worse, he didn’t even give them a chance.

But he really didn’t feel like giving them a chance – he’d just be hurt again. They were magic users, after all; they’d snap _eventually_ and show their true colors. Who knew what they were holding out for, but that they were holding out, he was sure of. Magic users were atrocious. Inhumane. It’s their point. They only sought power and pain. He knew this of them, and they knew nothing of him – it gave him a head start. But would that be enough?

The boy held his head, torn back and forth between two options that both seemed ill-advised in very different ways. He couldn’t reasonably decide this, he figured, but right now he was cold and being inside the weird house hadn’t hurt him so far. This was what made the most sense in the moment.

But the boy told himself that it wasn’t a permanent decision. He’d try to learn more while the weather was vile and maybe in spring, when going to sleep wasn’t guaranteed to be his last memory, he’d be on his way.

Because Dream was a risk-taker, but he wasn’t stupid.


	7. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno wakes up from a nightmare and meets Phil in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: graphic depiction of violence, implied murder

Techno found himself in a place that was as dark as it was noisy. He heard a plentitude of voices, layered, some screaming, some trying to talk over it, some trying to whisper under it – but he didn’t understand a word. They were all around him, mixed with noises of banging and stomping - yet he saw nobody. Just a dirty spotlight on the ground before him, lazily illuminating the cracked concrete floor.

He frantically looked around, trying to find a way out, away from the noises. Yet all he found were walls around him that appeared to grow even more out of reach every second he spent staring at them.

The floor’s sudden rumbling made him turn around in terror, a nightmarish creature now towering over him. He screamed and tried to run, but his smaller, child’s legs carried him nowhere. The voices roared as the creature lashed out with giant claws aimed at his trembling body, and Techno felt himself jumping towards its monstrous legs, only barely dodging the vicious strike.

He saw it lift its leg to crush his fragile body, and it must’ve been the adrenaline alone that gave him the strength and clarity to leap at the creature’s chest and claw into it, leaving bloody marks on its angry body as it twisted and turned to get him off. He, in turn, climbed further up, absolutely terrified of losing his fight and life right then and there, until he managed to grab its shoulder and leapt once more – this time for its neck, tusks exposed.

The creature screamed and grabbed his waist in horror, trying to rip him off. He felt his insides being crushed in the giant claws, but he did not let go. He tasted warm blood and its heavy smell overwhelmed his senses – but he did not let go.

Not until the creature lied still on the cracked concrete floor and the screams and cheers had died down. Not until the adrenaline left his body and his senses came back to him. His senses that, as he pulled away from the bloodied mess he created, made him aware of the small size of the body before him. The missing claws. How very similar its legs were to his. How human its face looked. How young. How familiar.

The horror of his realization violently kicked him backwards – but instead of landing on his back, he kept falling. And falling. And falling.

Techno woke up with heavy breaths and drops of sweat trickling down his shaking head. He sat up against the armrest behind him and dug his fingers into his thighs, trying to ground himself in reality before his nightmares could consume him whole.

“I’m home. I’m safe. I’m fine.” he kept whispering to himself.

After a while of desperately trying to convince himself, he laughed bitterly and gently slammed his palm against his forehead. “Knock it off, idiot.”

He shook his head and pushed stray strands of hair out of his face, exhaling. “Great…” His eyes moved upwards, staring at the living room’s ceiling as his body slowly followed his command and calmed down.

Techno hated sleeping. And he hated waking up. Not because he didn’t want to be awake, but because he didn’t want to deal with being a mess. Nightmares that shook him to his core didn’t happen every night, of course, but often enough that the thought of dreaming made him anxious. There was nothing good to be gained from his dreams. Because, as opposed to his twin brother, Techno never dreamt of silly things or the future. He was only ever shown the terrors of his past.

It made him jealous.

All the while he sat there - on the couch he had crashed on the night before, because he didn’t want to go into their shared room and face his twin. Wilbur, the one who caused him not one but two breakdowns in less than a day now. The one who, in the heat of the moment, attacked him where his wounds were cursed to never entirely heal. Just one misplaced word away from losing all the stability he so meticulously crafted for himself.

And out of all the emotions to feel for Wilbur after that, his brain chose jealousy. He thought about how Wilbur must’ve been fast asleep in his cozy bed at that moment, dreaming of whatever pleasant scenery one was capable of dreaming up. And it made him angry. Yet, he wasn’t angry at Wilbur for what he said. He had a point, after all. Being a murderer was certainly worse than being careful. The insidious part was that it hurt Techno precisely _because_ it was correct – because it reminded him of that fact. But it wasn’t Wilbur’s fault that it was correct, it was Techno’s fault that he was hurt by a simple truth. He didn’t see any reason for him to be mad at his twin for simply stating it.

So no, he wasn’t angry at Wilbur. He was angry at himself - for wanting to be someone else. He had put so much work and energy into convincing himself to want to be himself – yet here he was. Jealous.

And it wasn’t even reasonable. He knew this. Being Wilbur was objectively worse. Yes, he had somewhat helpful prophecy dreams, but his trade-off was way worse than Techno’s. At least Techno could refer to his trauma in past tense.

So, if he were to be truly honest to himself, he really just woke up with resentment towards being himself. There was a trade-off – and he just experienced it once more. He had been here before, and he would be here again. This was what he was burdened with.

The best he could do, he reckoned, was wrestle his demons whenever they appeared and be glad that they didn’t talk back. Yes, being himself wasn’t great, but it could be worse, he told himself. At least he learned how to deal with himself, despite the resentment.

Techno sighed and checked his watch. 7 am. There was no point in even trying to go back to the nightmare dimension, he concluded, and stood up.

The living room was dark, but his steps were stable. He had walked this path thousands of times; the house’s layout ingrained in his brain. He went as far as closing his eyes completely as he walked to the kitchen’s light switch – just to feed his starving ego with crumbs of confidence. He decided to play up his confident act to a no-man audience in an attempt to hide the fact that his hands were still shaking; that his called-up memories stuck to his every thought like vicious tar.

_Clack._ The cold kitchen light flickered on and Techno groaned, his eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the new brightness. His hands reached out for the kitchen counter and he slowly moved alongside it until he found himself staring into an opened cupboard.

“I guess I can make breakfast,” he quietly said to himself and pulled out a random pan. Techno wasn’t much of a chef, but he had watched Phil cook numerous times and figured that it couldn’t be that hard.

Half an hour later, Techno had become so focused on his cooking attempt that he didn’t hear Phil groggily walking down the stairs.

“Oh… Techno…? What are you doing?” Phil asked in-between yawns.

Techno flinched in surprise and took a step forward, trying to half-heartedly hide his sad excuse of a breakfast from his dad. “Uh… nothing…?”

Phil chuckled and walked up to him, gently moving him aside. “Lemme see…”

Techno buried his face in his hands. “Listen. I thought toast with eggs was beginner friendly. I didn’t know eggs were so judgmental and- and finicky.”

“Ohh, those were meant to be eggs?” Phil laughed.

Techno made a pained sound and threw a quick glance towards the truthfully rather black-ish egg remains in the fuming pan before he looked into his dad’s face. “That bad, huh?”

Phil’s eyes were tired yet caring as he reached out to rub his son’s back. “Don’t worry about it. I can teach you sometime, if you want.” He yawned again. “Now, how about I make us some non-judgmental eggs and you sit down and tell me why you’re awake this early?”

Techno hummed. “Okay… Thanks, dad.”

“No worries at all, son.” He smiled at him warmly before he turned around to rummage through their cabinets, pulling out some coffee filters, cups and plates.

Techno spent a few minutes just taking in the soft kitchen sounds in the quietness of the fresh morning. Now that his dad had joined him, a comfortable feeling of familiarity layered over his broken mind and gave him the strength to speak about it without immediately losing himself to his spiraling memories. Phil was there for him back then, and he was there for him now.

“Wilbur broke the rule last night,” he finally said, his head resting on one arm as he looked at his dad’s back, contemplating how much he wanted to share.

Phil turned around, his face serious. “On purpose?”

“No. Well… I don’t know,” he sighed deeply, “we had an argument. Wilbur said that he’d rather be stupid and overly careful than overly confident and a… someone who… you know, causes others to…” He felt himself choke up as he tried to enunciate a word that refused to leave his head, and looked away, embarrassed.

“Gotcha. So he didn’t fucking think before mentioning one of the forbidden topics,” Phil summarized and shook his head, disappointed, before he turned back around to face the stove so his son wouldn’t feel watched. “Do you want to share the context of your argument with me?”

Techno exhaled slowly, trying to wrestle back the control over his body. “No… No, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter. He didn’t mean it. I’m sure he didn’t. But he sure did say it, and my brain heard it, so… you know. Here I am. Burning eggs before dawn.” He laughed bitterly.

“Hmm, I see,” Phil hummed, “Did he follow your terms at least?”

His terms.

Their family had exactly one rule. Don't bring up someone's forbidden topic without their consent. If you break the rule, you have to resolve it on the other's terms, or so help you god.

Techno's terms were very easy. Just leave him alone. Don't talk to him until he talks to you. He valued space and quietness over everything else when he had to sort his feelings, and the others had to respect that.

Techno thought for a moment. "Yeah, I guess he did. So far, anyways. As you might be able to tell, I'm not quite ready to talk to him yet, considering..." he made a round-about gesture that Phil couldn’t see, "...you know."

“Thank fuck, at least he didn’t screw that up,” Phil scoffed, “but yeah, I get it. Don’t worry about taking your time and all.” He paused to crack three eggs into the pan before him, their soft sizzling filling their conversational space for a brief moment, until he snapped his fingers as if he just remembered something. “Oh! I was planning on taking you boys holiday shopping in the city today. If you want, you can stay home and take all the space you need. How’s that sound?” He smiled at Techno over his shoulder.

Techno hummed back. “I think I’d like that. Time off from their shenanigans sounds great right about now… but also just in general, to be honest.”

Phil laughed. “Figured as much.”

They spent the rest of the morning just lightly chatting about school and work and whatever wizard gossip Phil came across in his freelance travels. It was nice. Techno really loved talking with Phil. He used to feel pathetic for saying that his dad was his best friend, but he came to accept that it was simply the truth. He was the one who understood him the best and was always there for him, and in turn, Techno was ready to fight the world for him. Something that Phil would of course never let happen, but he appreciated the sentiment greatly, regardless.

“Fuck, how is it already 9:30?!” Phil had casually checked the clock on the kitchen wall, but did a double take when he realized how long they had been talking for. “God, I gotta bring the new kid breakfast and then wake up Wilbur and Tommy and… ugh.” He groaned and stood up.

“I can bring Dream breakfast if you want,” Techno offered without much second thought.

“Oh, Sure!” Phil replied, but then he looked at Techno, confused, “Wait… Dream…?”

“Uhh… the new kid. It’s his name,” he explained.

“You named him?” Phil asked, his expression equal parts confused and amused.

Techno crossed his arms. “Yeah, what of it? He didn’t have one and always calling him ‘the new kid’ is kind of dehumanizing.”

The amused part of Phil’s mind won and he started laughing, his arms raised in a joking surrender pose. “Okay, okay! Dream, then.” His smile softened. “I’m glad to hear you’re making friends with him already.”

Techno scoffed and looked away. ”I just don’t want to be around when Wilbur comes here for breakfast. Don’t let it get to your head.”

Phil laughed again. “Sure, buddy.”

He quickly prepared a fresh plate of non-judgemental eggs with toast and held it towards Techno. “Here you go! Wish him a good morning from me, will you?”

Techno took the plate and shrugged with a grin. “We’ll see. Enjoy your shopping adventure.”

Phil grinned mockingly and shrugged back. “We’ll see.”


	8. Opportunist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno brings Dream breakfast and answers some of his questions.

Techno didn’t know why he suggested this.

He had told his dad that he would bring Dream breakfast so he could avoid Wilbur, but that argument felt rather superficial, now that he was rethinking his choices as he slowly walked up the stairs. He realized that he could’ve just gone back onto the roof. Or locked himself in his dad’s room. There were plenty of alternatives rather than talking to a stranger – something that Techno was known for despising.

Yet here he was, carrying a plate to a kid who he barely knew. Who didn’t even want to be here. Who… Yeah, that’s right, maybe the kid wasn’t even there anymore. Techno did tell him last night that he didn’t care about him leaving. But, if Dream were actually gone, what would Techno tell his dad? He’d really prefer not being the one to discover that. But he had already committed to going there, so the only thing left for him to do about it was be anxious.

He exhaled deeply to channel his mantle of faked confidence that would cover his social anxieties, and put on his social mask once more before he knocked on the door. When nobody answered he carefully entered the room. In front of him was the bed and in it, Dream, sitting shuffled against the corner of the room, his eyes trained on the now opened door.

“Boo,” Techno said with his low, monotonous voice and laughed once. “Good morning, Dream. I brought you breakfast.” He sat it down on the nightstand where the emptied plate from yesterday’s dinner was still sitting and took a step back to lean against the doorframe.

“Morning…” Dream replied quietly.

Techno crossed his arms casually. “Looks like you made your choice, huh? You wanna stay here?”

Dream furrowed his brows. “It’s just… too cold outside.”

Techno scoffed. “Truuuuue. You _would_ freeze to death. Glad to hear that you’ve got at least a sliver of common sense in you.”

“Hey,” Dream protested, without much strength.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Techno laughed, and spotted something akin to a smile creep up on Dream’s face. He recognized the opening immediately and decided to double down. “But to be fair, you would’ve looked pretty stupid if I hadn’t been there to save you last night.”

Dream scoffed and relaxed his tensed-up pose a bit, his pulled-in legs gradually stretching over the crumpled bedsheets. “I only slipped ‘cause you scared me, okay?”

Techno grinned at him smugly. “Oh yeah? Where would you have gone, then? You looked completely lost before I showed you the vines.”

“I would’ve figured it out!” Dream retorted and slid away from the wall, his feet now resting on the carpeted floor. “I’m not stupid, okay.”

“Well I wouldn’t know,” Techno replied and shrugged, overexaggerating his feigned ignorance. “All I know of you is that you tried to run away from people who clearly want to help you – directly into the arms of people who want you dead, in the worst-case scenario. That looks plenty stupid if you ask me.”

Dream crossed his arms. “Well, all I know is that I was kidnapped by some stranger who is trying to keep me here with some weird magic barrier stuff. You think fleeing from a kidnapper is stupid?”

Techno tilted his head, his brows furrowed. “You think you were kidnapped?”

“Yeah?! I was somewhere else and then a stranger brought me here, against my will. That’s the definition of kidnapping! Which one of us is the stupid one, again?”

Techno started tapping on his cheek absentmindedly, thinking. “I guess… I guess that makes sense…? He saved your life, though. Kidnappers aren’t really known for doing that.”

“Did he?” Dream replied and took a small bite off of the toast on his nightstand, “I didn’t feel like I needed saving.”

“Well, you probably did, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone to these lengths. He probably risked his job for you.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have,” Dream retaliated and took another bite, “Also, probably? So you don’t know, either? You’re just guessing?”

“No… Well, kinda. It’s always been like this. And I trust dad, he wouldn’t do something like this if it weren’t important.” He paused for a moment. “But no, I suppose I don’t know what happened, specifically.”

Dream looked like he wanted to complain about what Techno had last said, but then hesitated. “Wait… _dad_? That guy is your father?”

“No. He’s my dad. There’s a difference.”

“What’s the difference?” Dream asked, confused.

“Well, my _father_ is dead, for all I know. My dad, however, saved me from being dead myself. Tiny difference, really.”

“Oh.” Dream’s face shifted exactly the way it always shifted for people who realized for the first time that Techno was technically an adopted orphan.

“Yeah, yeah. Oh. I get it. My life is so sad, yada yada, who cares. Wilbur’s and Tommy’s pasts are just as terrible. That’s just how it is.” Techno shrugged as he rushed over the topic, painfully aware of how little he wanted to think about it. Of course it still hurt that he couldn’t even remember his parents’ faces. That his earliest remaining memory was panic. But he had to act like it didn’t faze him, because otherwise, it would.

“Who’s Tommy?”

“God, you haven’t met Tommy yet,” Techno replied, thankful that Dream changed the topic immediately. “He’s our youngest brother. The loudest and boldest child I’ve ever met.”

“Okay, so. You and Wilbur are twins, who were adopted by the guy who kidnapped me. And then there’s also a Tommy, who was also adopted by him?”

“Dad’s name is Phil. But yeah, that’s about it.”

“Phil,” Dream repeated, “saved all of your lives, then? Before he adopted you?”

“Yep.”

“So did he also kidnap you all?” Dream continued asking.

Techno vehemently shook his head, brows furrowed. “None of us felt like we were kidnapped. As far as I know, we were all _very_ glad that he showed up in time. Like I said, if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

Dream hummed thoughtfully and ate a few bites of his breakfast in silence, seemingly having run out of questions.

“Is it my turn to ask questions now?” Techno asked, and looked at Dream expectantly, who in turn looked mildly confused. Techno clarified, “You just asked me like ten questions. I feel like it’d only be fair if I got to ask you some things, too. You know, I’d love to know more about the weird kid that lives in our attic.”

Dream swallowed his bite and grinned back at Techno. “I thought my name was Dream.”

Techno burst out laughing. “True, true! Sorry about that. Is that a yes, though?” Dream shrugged, which Techno took as confirmation to ask away. “Okay, so… Where were you before dad came to save you? Since you said you didn’t feel like you needed saving.”

Dream looked up from his toast and thought for a moment before he started replying. “I was…” His entire face scrunched together as if the sole act of thinking caused him physical pain. “…In the… sanctuary…” He leaned forward, his hands forcefully grabbing his head.

“Okay, okay! You know what,” Techno interrupted him quickly, “I take that back. You don’t have to answer that question if it makes you uncomfortable.” When Dream didn’t move or answer, Techno started snapping his fingers in his direction. “Hey! Dream! Stop thinking about it!”

Dream slowly looked up, his brows still furrowed in pain.

“You’re here now. At home, with us. We’re in the middle of nowhere, literally nobody will find you here. You’re safe. Whatever happened doesn’t matter right now. Alright?” Techno didn’t know what Dream’s brain was doing right now, but his best guess was something very similar to what his own brain did earlier that day, so he decided to mirror the words that he always told himself in order to calm down.

Dream winced, “What? It’s just a headache…”

Techno nodded, relieved that the other was talking again, but also slightly embarrassed that he apparently misread the situation. “I see… Well, we have painkillers downstairs, if you want?” Dream thought for a moment, but before he could answer, Techno heard the faintest sound of a closing door. “Oh, I think I just heard them leave. What perfect timing.”

“Who left?” Dream asked quietly.

“Dad, Wilbur and Tommy. They went shopping or something. Meaning, we’re the only ones in this house now. No reason for you to be scared of going downstairs.” Techno smiled and pushed himself off the doorframe, ready to leave the tower.

“I’m not scared of going downstairs,” Dream complained, rubbing his temples.

“Okay, prove it, then,” Techno replied with a smug grin on his face. He grabbed the empty plate from Dream’s nightstand and motioned for him to leave before turning away and starting down the spiral staircase. The other didn’t reply, but Techno heard a quiet groan and soft steps behind him.

They walked all the way to the kitchen in silence, where Techno put down the plate and opened one of the many cupboards. After a few seconds of scanning its contents, he pulled out a little pack and popped a small pill in his hand, which he held out to Dream. Dream, however, didn’t react.

“Dream, I know you probably don’t trust me, but these are painkillers. You are in pain. Take it.” He held the pack directly in Dream’s face so he could read the label. The other still didn’t react. Techno sighed, “Would you want to take it if you were sure it was actually a painkiller?”

Dream hesitated, but then replied quietly, “I… I guess…”

Techno sighed again. “Okay, fine,” he said, and swallowed the pill he had held out. He opened his arms theatrically. “Ta-da. Not dead. You’re welcome.” He handed Dream the entire pack. “Here, choose your favorite.”

The other stared at him for a moment, before following his words and taking one of the pills. “Thanks…”

“Be glad that I’m such a good person,” Techno replied jokingly, but then had a better idea. “Wait, no, actually – in return for answering all your questions and taking a painkiller for no reason, I want you to do something for me.”

Dream took a step backwards, nervousness immediately written on his face. “What do you want?”

Techno chuckled. “Calm down. I just want you to come downstairs for breakfast tomorrow. It’s stupid that we always have to bring you food upstairs. And, clearly you’re not scared of coming down here, so that shouldn’t be a problem at all, am I right?”

Dream sighed, clear relief in his voice that made Techno wonder what he could’ve possibly expected. “Alright… Fine.”

“Nice, nice… Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, I think I’ll head over to my room. I still have a book to finish, personally.” He pointed in the direction of their room. “So I’ll be there, if you need me. You can like… I don’t know, explore the house or something? That sounds like something you would do, based on my limited knowledge.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Dream complained.

Techno laughed, “alright, then. I guess you can also just go back to your room and bore yourself to death. Whatever floats your boat.” He shrugged and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Dream to his own devices.

Techno spent the rest of the day peacefully reading the novel he had started the day before. Over the course of the day, Techno not only heard someone walk up the stairs but also back down again, which amused him greatly. Maybe he wasn’t half-bad at reading people after all, he thought to himself.

Sometime after it had already gotten dark, Phil, Wilbur and Tommy finally arrived back home. Apparently they had gotten stuck in a snowstorm-caused traffic jam. At least, that’s what Techno gathered from the faint mumbling he could make out through the walls. He still didn’t particularly feel like talking to his brothers, so he resorted to using his surprisingly good sense of hearing to maneuver around any sort of interaction with them that evening.

He eventually heard Wilbur enter his half of their tent, though he couldn’t see him, thanks to the big curtain that Techno had pulled down to visibly divide their space. It was a safety measure, there to give the boys privacy in times of need. Times like this. After all, seeing someone while you were actively ignoring them was rather awkward.

They had agreed on not entering the other’s side while the curtains were out, so Techno was quite surprised to find that his side had slightly changed in the few minutes that he had left it to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.

A book and a neatly folded note were sitting on his bed sheets, waiting patiently for him to open them. He sat down next to them and sighed, his hand hovering over the note. His terms clearly stated that the others shouldn’t _talk_ to him, but he supposed he never specified that writing notes was out of the picture. It was clever, he had to hand that to Wilbur at least.

Techno had been pretty happy with his growing certainty to keep up his distance at least until the day after, and he kind of really didn’t want to deal with Wilbur’s thoughts at that moment, but since they were directly in front of him now his nosiness became overwhelming. He couldn’t just _not_ read it.

His growing nerves got the better of him and led his hand to the folded paper, convincing him to open it. His twin’s handwriting stared back at him, its uncharacteristic neatness standing out immediately. He must’ve really tried hard, Techno thought to himself as he slowly went over the decorated letters his brother had written for him.

_Hey Techno,_

_I’m sorry._

_I didn’t mean to say what you heard me say. But I’m not going to pretend like that was Lucy, because it was not. I definitely said those words myself. That was wrong, though. I tried to get my point across about being “better safe than sorry”, but the words I chose made it sound like I was attacking you. I ~~wasn’t~~ didn’t mean to, though! Because I love you and I don’t care about whatever happened eons ago. You are an awesome brother now and that is all that matters, if you ask me. Thank you for tolerating me._

_On the note of tolerating: I know you really don’t like apologies and prefer to just act like nothing happened. I get that and we can totally do that after you read this! I just needed to make sure that you know what happened. The uncertainty would’ve killed me. You know how I get. So thank you for tolerating this, too. And the heartfelt words. I know you don’t like those, either. (I love you, though, so you will just have to deal with that. =)_

_Best Regards,_

_Your favorite twin brother Wilbur_

_PS: That book was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I just saw that you finished the first volume today and figured that you’d probably prefer not having to wait for Christmas to read the sequel. You’re welcome!_

Techno’s eyes scanned over the letter several times, as if new words would appear if he just read it often enough, before he finally folded it back together and examined the book that Wilbur had gifted him. He really had finished the first volume not even half an hour ago and the suspense of the cliffhanger it had ended on was rightfully pulling his heartstrings in all the good places.

Wilbur was right. The best present he could’ve made him was not forcing him to wait until the arbitrary celebration day came around. Christmas came early and Techno was positively stoked about it.

And the apology was fine too, he supposed. He had already known that Wilbur wasn’t a terrible person. Sure, he sometimes said terrible-person-words, but that was usually out of his control. Techno had gotten used to it over the years. It still hurt, of course, but he was fine with dealing with that on his own. He didn’t see a point in discussing painful topics that he already knew everything about. Wilbur tended to get anxious about misunderstandings though, so they regularly ended up talking about it anyways. Another thing that Techno simply had to deal with.

It was fine, though. Having someone apologize to him and tell him how he’s a great person and all wasn’t the worst experience he could imagine. Maybe he kind of liked it, even. Maybe he just really disliked the part where he had to react to it and the other could read from the tint of his face that he actually enjoyed hearing those darn heartfelt words. Maybe, secretly, Wilbur knew that and wrote them in the letter precisely because of that. Who’s to say, really?

Techno looked away from the book he was spacing out on, his eyes eventually falling back onto the half-folded note next to him. He couldn’t just leave it sitting there, he figured, and instinctively put it in his newly acquired book. Not because the note meant something to him and he wanted to keep it safe, or anything like that – he simply didn’t want it to litter the floor. Maybe he’d use it as a bookmark.

He quietly chuckled at his silly internal denial as he put the book on his nightstand and climbed under his blanket.

“Goodnight, Wilbur,” he finally said into the silent room after a few moments of consideration.

“Goodnight, Techno,” Wilbur replied from the other side of the curtain, and Techno swore he could hear his brother smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you've enjoyed this wholesome little chapter :]
> 
> Just a quick note here that I got rather preoccupied with IRL things the past few weeks (exam time & got my wisdom teeth removed,,, yikes) - meaning I couldn't write any new chapters in that time & now with this have posted my last pre-written chapter.  
> I'll still try to get a new chapter done by next friday but I can't promise anything ! aka, if it delays a bit: worry not, I'm def still continuing this fic, it might just take a little longer!
> 
> okay that is all, wishing y'all a nice weekend!


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